CH8 The red priestess and the shadow city

16th day of the 10th moon, 236 AC. The North, the Wolfswood.

Luna hummed softly to herself as she worked. Find a good spot, dig up the dirt, mix in the specially prepared fertilizer, pour a little nutrient potion on it, plant the seed and move on. It was a simple, satisfying thing.

Harry usually helped, but he was busy right now. There was always a lot to do after wars, even short ones, things that Luna didn't feel like doing.

Harry didn't really feel like doing them either, which was why he'd left it to Adrastia and Ronan, but then Adrastia had spread it around that he would teach anyone that wanted to learn, all they had to do was come to Dol Guldur and ask.

Now that there were close to five thousand people living around the tower, quite a few of them did so. Harry might be strict and demanding of anyone that he took as a student, but he respected people that wanted to learn and wouldn't dismiss them out of hand like he did to so many others.

This did delay their planned trip to Asshai, but that was alright. They had plenty of time and it wasn't like it was going anywhere.

Luna only did a little bit of teaching in this new place. She knew that the free folk sometimes needed to be given a black eye before they would listen and she didn't like violence. Harry looked intimidating enough that he generally didn't have to hit anyone, but it did happen from time to time.

Instead, she'd decided to expand her weirwood planting operation. The Haunted Forest was already teeming with the white-barked trees, but they were much rarer south of the Wall. You could still find solitary weirwoods in the Wolfswood, but there were practically no groves of them in it. That was going to change.

She stood up from her latest planting with a satisfied sigh and put away the enchanted trowel she'd been using to dig up the cold dirt.

"Where should we go next, Bucky?" She asked of the squirrel perching on her shoulder. He had joined her after she shared her lunch with him earlier. It was good to have company, especially with how much she missed Mag. Sigurd had left some time ago and the gentle giant had gone with him. Maybe she should consider visiting him soon?

Bucky, so named for his prominent front teeth, chittered his indifference and started digging through her hair in search of nuts.

"I guess you're right." Luna nodded, and started off in a random direction.

"Ooh, that looks like a good spot!" She exclaimed about half an hour later, having found a thinner patch of the forest that had enough room for a weirwood tree to grow.

Dig up the dirt, mix in the fertilizer, pour the potion, plant the seed-

Bucky suddenly twitched and fled deeper into the forest.

"Bye!" Luna waved at him cheerily.

"Who're you talkin' to, lass?" A bewildered voice asked.

Luna turned to look at the man that had walked up to her. He looked to be somewhere in his thirties, with an unkempt beard, bad teeth and rough furs. He could almost pass for one of the free folk. He also had an arrow nocked on his bow, but not drawn. Probably a hunter.

"Bucky." She replied. "He's a squirrel."

"Right." The even more bewildered man blinked.

Luna just stared at him expectantly for a while, oblivious to how awkward the situation was becoming or the frown on the hunter's face as he tried to figure her out.

"Can I help you with something?" She finally asked.

"Those are some awful nice clothes you're wearin'." He noted.

"Thank you!" Luna beamed.

Be wary, malice takes shape in his mind. The Old Gods whispered, but she didn't stop smiling. Harry had a lot of dark thoughts and he wasn't a bad person. Most of the time.

"You out here all by yourself?"

"Mhm."

Luna didn't understand why he was looking so surprised. She thought that she'd been pretty clear.

"No husband?"

"He's north of the Wall right now." Luna explained.

The hunter's eyes lit up in realization, and with something else.

"Would you like to help me plant trees?" She offered.

"I'll be plantin' something alright." He said in a dark tone, putting aside his bow and walking towards her.

Luna's smile fell. "Please don't try it."

He didn't answer, crossing the last of the distance between them and reaching out to grab her.

She hit him with a spell that targeted his inner ear and completely wrecked his sense of balance. He fell to the ground and clung to it like the sky was trying to suck him up.

"W-w-witch!" He gibbered fearfully.

"Yes." Luna nodded and walked away, unhappy with how that had gone. It wasn't the first time a man thought that a small woman like herself, all alone, was an easy target, but it was always upsetting. They could have been friends.

A terrified scream behind her signaled that one of the weirwood dryads had come for the man, no doubt having used the nearest weirwood tree as a transport medium. The Old Gods were rather protective of her, which was sweet of them.

Luna wilfully ignored the sounds of messy death. It wasn't her concern, the man hadn't wanted to be friends and the blood would nourish the weirwood seed she'd just planted.

But she wasn't in the mood to plant seeds anymore, so she just kept walking until she found another weirwood and climbed into the branches.

The Old Gods said nothing, just hovered at the edges of her perception in a show of silent support.

"Is there anything interesting going on?" She asked after an hour of silence.

Perhaps. The Old Gods replied thoughtfully. An unusual woman is passing through these woods. We do not understand her.

Luna perked up and closed her eyes, already sinking into the Greensight. "Show me."

She allowed her sight to be directed eastwards, towards the part of the Kingsroad that cut through the Wolfswood. The vision was weaker here than in the Haunted Forest, but still good enough. There was a caravan of men heading north and among them was a pale woman in a red dress/robe, with hair like burnished copper and dark red eyes , who stuck out like a sore thumb among the group of dark-haired men in drab clothing.

"Another witch!" Luna exclaimed, sensing the magic around the red woman. "I have to tell Harry."

XXXXX

Later that day.

Melisandre had gotten lucky, a recruiter from the Night's Watch had entered White Harbor a mere day before she had been intending to leave the port city. The recruiter had initially been wary of her and what reason she might have to join the the caravan of supplies and recruits – both willing and unwilling – heading for the Wall, but an offer of her services as a cook, healer and company for the cold nights had won him over.

She could have made the journey herself, faster at that since she wouldn't be meandering across the country. Bandits were a slight concern, but she was far from helpless. Still, it was worth it for the opportunity get some information on her quarry.

And what information it was. To think that such a powerful sorcerer had made his home on the Great Other's very doorstep. She understood now what her god wanted of her. If this sorcerer was a servant of the Great Other, then she was to kill him, but if he was its enemy, then she was to aid him.

After the recruiter had exhausted himself with his clumsy rutting and fallen asleep, Melisandre lay awake and offered a final prayer to R'hllor, hoping that this 'Raven Lord' would be an ally in the war against the darkness.

Then she slept, and dreamed.

She dreamed of the long years of her life spent in R'hllor's service, and of a green-eyed shadow slipping through them. It was quiet and subtle, observing without causing any disruption. Sometimes it took the form of people from her past to hide, but Melisandre had some skill in magic and had long since learned how to stay lucid during her dreams. The shadow did not belong.

She wrenched her dreamscape until the surroundings resolved themselves into the Temple of the Lord of Light in Volantis. A place of strength for her. The shadow solidified into a tall man with claw mark scars over the left side of his face, a strange rune carved in the middle of his forehead, another faded scar in the shape of a lightning bolt slightly off center and the most intense green eyes she had ever seen.

"The Raven Lord, I presume?" She asked, preparing to defend herself if necessary.

"Some have taken to calling me that." He nodded. "Why are you here, red priestess?"

"We should speak of it in person." Melisandre evaded. The realm of dreams was too treacherous.

The Raven Lord regarded her for a moment before shrugging carelessly. "Then come find me."

Melisandre's eyes flew open as the dream abruptly ended and she simply stared at the darkness of the tent for a moment to reorient herself.

That had been...strange. Not bad and not necessarily good either, just...strange.

XXXXX

7th day of the 11th moon, 236 AC. The Wall, Castle Black.

Lord Commander Jack Musgood rubbed a hand over his face and sighed heavily as the mysterious Asshai'i woman left his solar, escorted by one of the black brothers that had actually volunteered to serve at the Wall and could be trusted to behave himself around her.

She had made her intentions to seek out the Sorcerer abundantly clear and he didn't know if he should allow it or bar her from crossing the Wall.

"What do you make of this?" He asked of his two chief advisors.

"She believes that she is on a mission from her god." Maester Aemon said pensively. "Nothing short of death will deter her from it."

"You think we should kill her?" Jack asked with an eyebrow raised in surprise. The former prince was usually not one to counsel violence so readily.

"Only if you intend to hinder her. R'hllor's faithful are known for possessing magical powers, so it would be best to either let her pass peacefully or slay her before she has a chance to use them to force her way through."

That...didn't really help at all. In fact, it made Jack even more conflicted. He didn't want to murder a woman who had done no harm, but he was leery of having another magic user beyond the Wall.

"I could escort her to Dol Guldur." Bloodraven offered. "We haven't been able to gather any useful intelligence since the Starks went there."

Jack grimaced at the truth of that. The Sorcerer was still confounding any ranging parties they sent out without his permission.

Oh sure, he had offered to allow them passage, but only if they were escorted by his creatures. What use was a scout that was only allowed to see what the enemy wanted him to see?

The Night's Watch was able to do little else than cool its heels here at the Wall these days, something that was ruffling the feathers on more than a few black brothers. With nothing else to do, their grumbling was getting louder. He had received reports of discontent from the other castles as well. If something wasn't done, the situation could easily escalate into dissent and even rebellion.

For thousands of years, the wildlings had tried to destroy the Night's Watch and now a sorcerer that by all accounts just wished to be left alone might well succeed unintentionally where they had failed. The irony was not lost on him. Unless of course he was just fiendishly clever and was doing it on purpose, that was also a possibility.

Either way, he needed information and if he had to allow another witch to go north of the Wall then so be it. Maybe he would get lucky and they would kill each other.

"According to the red priestess, the Sorcerer is already aware of her coming and has tacitly given her permission to approach." He said slowly. "Pick out your men, Bloodraven. You leave in two days."

XXXXX

9th day of the 11th moon, 236 AC. Dol Guldur.

Adrastia carefully waved her wand over the scale model of Dol Guldur and its surrounding area, making little changes here and there. It was all neatly color coded, clearly marking things that were already built, things that were under construction and things that were still just ideas.

Aside from being an excellent way to plan out the growth of the burgeoning settlement, it was also good practice mastering her wand. Even two years after Harry had made it for her, it was still a temperamental thing. When working particularly demanding magic, she could almost feel Cannibal's spirit roaring from inside it.

So focused was she on her work that she didn't sense Harry's approach until he trailed his fingers down her back, an action that caused her to twitch in surprise and ruin the precise transfiguration she was doing.

"Feeling jumpy today?" Harry teased, fingers moving the rest of the way down her back and giving her rear a squeeze.

"You ruined my work." Adrastia pouted and leaned back into him. "How do you intend to make it up to me?"

He hummed and wrapped an arm around her midsection, pulling her up against him. She sensed magic being shaped and the model building she had been constructing put itself back together, although blocky and featureless. "How's that?"

"It'll do, I guess." She sighed dramatically, turning around in his half-embrace and nibbling on his bottom lip. "Did you want me for something?"

Harry smiled, unfortunately not in a way that preceded a good time. "I just came to tell you that the red priestess and her escort have set off from Castle Black. They should arrive in a few weeks."

"Ah, thank you." She smiled back, giving him a peck on the lips. The days when she would use her Glass Candle to constantly spy on the world were in the past now that she had other things to be doing, so this could have very well snuck up on her if he hadn't told her. Unlike him and Luna, she had just about zero affinity with the Greensight and little interest in developing it.

"What are you plotting over here?" He asked, nodding at the model building he had just put together.

"Oh, I was just wondering if I could get away with a public bath house." Adrastia answered airily.

"Tricky." Harry said thoughtfully. "There's no hot springs in this area, so keeping the water warm would be problematic. Frequently changing it out would be another issue."

"I know." She huffed, turning back around to stare at her scale model.

The area definitely had some good things going for it, such as the nearness of the Milkwater, the abundance of stone and lumber and the high likelihood of there being metal deposits close by, but it was far from perfect. The ground was rocky and uneven in a lot of places, the omnipresent snow made it worse and the current bane of her existence, the lack of an underground hot spring, was the cherry on top.

"Keeping the water fresh could be accomplished simbly by having it constantly circulating." Harry mused.

Adrastia nodded, having considered it herself. "The elevations are problematic, but that could be solved with a large enough water pump...provided that this blasted cold doesn't freeze it solid."

Harry shook his head. "Anything big enough to work on that scale would necessarily have to be more elaborate to lower the strength requirement of operating it and these people just don't have the mechanical expertise to make something like that yet. Hell, I don't really know how to put something like that together off the top of my head. And that still wouldn't solve the issue of heating the water anyway."

"Could the heat from the forges be used?" It would require shifting things around a bit, but it could probably be done.

"Theoretically? Yes. Practically? No. Same problem as the water pump; nobody here is crafty enough to try something like that without making a huge mess of things."

Adrastia huffed irritably. People were her expertise, not architecture or engineering, and planning out even a low tech city was taxing her meager skills.

"I suppose I'll have to stay with saunas for now." She muttered.

"Why do you want to make a public bath house anyway?" Harry asked bemusedly.

"Because, Harry," Adrastia began in a lecturing tone that deliberately mocked the manner he often adopted when explaining something. "aside from the hygiene benefits, communal bathing is a powerful social adhesive. Our current population stock is a ragtag collection of disparate clans that are only being kept together by their lingering respect for Ronan and above him, you. If either of those two lynchpins were removed they would tear each other apart. As it is, there are still fights happening with frustrating regularity. The sooner they start thinking of themselves as one people the better, and nudity has a way of lowering barriers."

"You never suggested something like this for Spellhaven." He pointed out.

"That's because the veela would have turned it into massive public orgies." She replied in exasperation. "Admittedly, that would have had its benefits, but only in the short term. Allowing rampant promiscuity erodes the value of the basic family unit and with it the foundation of a society, if you still recall my lessons."

Harry grunted in acknowledgement. "So...saunas?"

Adrastia nodded. "Yes, I've already begun introducing them and they're quickly gaining in popularity."

All it took was dragging Ronan to Dol Guldur's sauna, making a few suggestions about how much she enjoyed it and soon after he was making one next to his house down below. Others got curious and a few weeks later there were saunas popping up everywhere. A communal one was already halfway to being built.

"It's going to end up like Finland, isn't it?" He asked with an amused grin.

"If that's what it takes to make this frozen hellhole at least somewhat enjoyable." She replied regally. "And speaking of this frozen hellhole, what do you want to call it? Eventually it'll need a name other than 'the lands beyond the Wall' or 'the True North'. So will this town, and even sooner at that."

Harry's face became dead serious. He placed his hands on her shoulders and stared deep into her eyes. "Adrastia, I've built a copy of Orthanc and called it Dol Guldur. Stick with the theme."

She gave him a flat look. "No."

"Yes." He countered solemnly.

"No." She insisted.

"Yes." He insisted back

"Harry, no." Her voice took on a pleading tinge. "Please?"

"I'm sorry, Adrastia, but we're calling it Isengard."

"Why do you have to be like this?" She asked plaintively.

"And when the time comes to properly name the lands beyond the Wall, make sure that Angmar is the name that gets picked." Harry continued heedlessly. "On the off chance that someone starts calling me the Witch-King."

"They won't, I'll make sure of it." She promised, although it wasn't something she could really stop. Starting these things was so much easier than preventing them. "So can we please pick some other name?"

"No, because 'X of Angmar' is statistically likely to sound cooler than whatever other name might get chosen. Plus, Angmar was in the north."

Adrastia took a deep breath and exhaled very slowly. "Was there something else you wanted aside from informing me about the red priestess and imposing your atrocious naming sense on my project?"

"Maybe I just missed you?" Harry teased, sliding his hands down her arms and sides until they rested on her hips. "You've been so busy with Ronan lately that you haven't had any time for me."

"It's your own fault for dumping him on me." She said sourly.

His very usefulness as a pawn made Ronan a problem. She couldn't play with him the way she did with most men because that would render him useless. Instead of tearing him down, she had to build him up.

She had to be, ugh, supportive.

It didn't help that his brat was suspicious of her. The mouthy eleven-year-old had no idea that the only reason she hadn't had some kind of 'accident' yet was because Adrastia needed her father to be at his best instead of grieving for the little ginger bitch.

Harry just chuckled, clearly amused by her consternation. The bastard.

XXXXX

3rd day of th 12th moon, 236 AC. Isengard.

Brynden could scarcely believe his eye. Just a few moons ago, this place had the beginnings of a small village, now it had the beginnings of a small town. There were still many tents among the stone buildings, but it was clear that a permanent settlement was growing around the Sorcerer's tower.

The Lord Commander wasn't going to like this. Neither were the Starks and their vassals. That the man guiding them to the tower had introduced himself as Ronan Redbeard – glowering at them contemptously the whole time – would certainly not serve to assuage any tempers.

The tower's spells were as beguiling as ever, and Brynden couldn't defeat the enchantments that played tricks on his mind. He had tried practicing his magic since his first visit here, but he hadn't been able to learn much.

At his side, he could see Melisandre's narrowed gaze. Could she feel the spells affecting them?

Ronan eventually led them to a large room that was filled with six women, eight rather loud children children and Harry himself. Brynden assumed it was Harry's family with how familiar everyone was with each other. What an incredibly casual way to greet visitors.

"Ronan, you've brought our guests." Adrastia said, smiling brilliantly as she stood from her chair.

She made introductions between those who didn't know each other with all the poise of royalty and graciously offered them bread and salt, then she moved to link arms with Ronan Redbeard. "Come, let us leave them to talk."

Brynden could only blink in surprise and wonder what the mysterious Summer Islander was up to. He didn't for a moment believe that she had become the wildling's woman. Shiera had taught him that women like that didn't simply settle down.

"Come on, Brynden, I'll show you to your rooms." Luna beamed and grabbed his hand, leading him away.

She was still as strangely endearing with her innocent boldness as ever.

"It is good to see you again, my lady." Brynden said politely.

"You agreed to call me by my name the last time you came." She pouted.

"Luna." He corrected himself, still feeling as if he was overstepping his bounds.

"That's better, and it's good to see you again too."

"If I might say, your husband seems to have amassed quite a following since our last visit." Brynden noted, getting to what he was really curious about. "How is it that Raymun Redbeard's brother now follows him?"

"Oh, Ronan came here trying to kill us and a lot of people decided to stay after he failed." Luna explained brightly, in the same tone that a noble lady might use to describe a wonderful gift she had received from a suitor.

Brynden blinked his sole eye in surprise once again. "It sounds like an interesting tale. Will you share it with me?"

The small, golden-haired woman smiled at him guilelessly and happily did so.

By the end of the tale, Brynden knew that he had been right. The Lord Commander and the Starks were definitely not going to like this.

XXXXX

Harry suppressed the urge to smile at how tense the atmosphere was. Ava and Oak had herded the children behind him, while Hala and Sigrid stood at his sides as if to make a wall between them and the red priestess.

"So, you're from Asshai?" He said casually.

"I am." Melisandre replied simply and nodded.

Truth, but it felt paper-thin. A quick skim of her surface thoughts gave him the impression that she didn't consider any particular place to be 'home'.

"You're a long from home, then." Harry observed. "What brings you here?"

Her red eyes flickered over to the tense women and the increasingly restless children before snapping back to his own green ones. "We should speak of it privately, my lord."

"I'm not a lord of anything." He waved off, but didn't take his eyes off hers. Another glimpse of her surface thoughts picked up on a sense of disagreement from before it faded away from his perception. The red priestess had a highly focused mind. "Still, I guess you're right. We can talk in my study."

"Harry!" Hala hissed, grabbing his wrist.

"Don't worry, she's a guest." He assured her.

Judging by the mulish expression, Hala was more jealous than concerned about his safety. And the others weren't much better. Kind of funny, actually. And terribly misplaced. The glamour Melisandre was wearing was by far the most powerful he'd ever encountered, some form of permanent semi-solid illusion anchored to the ruby choker around her neck. It lacked the sophistication and fine touch of Earth's spellwork, but it did the job. It acted more like a ward than a charm, and couldn't be broken as long as the choker was in one piece.

A lot of effort to go to for the sake of mere vanity, however, so whatever she was hiding under there was probably none too pleasant to look at.

Despite their obvious reluctance to leave him alone with the red priestess, none of the women protested any further when he led her towards his study. Jala and Nenya did have to be pried off his legs though, clingy little things that they were.

"You have a beautiful family." Melisandre complimented about halfway there.

Harry merely nodded and hummed noncommittally in response, recognizing the attempt to get him talking for what it was. Most people were quick to either brag or complain about their families and often blabbed out all sorts of information in the process without realizing it. It was a trick that Adrastia had warned him about a long time ago.

Melisandre seemed to get the hint and the rest of the trip was made in silence.

"Have a seat." He waved at one of the chairs when they arrived. "Do you want anything to drink?"

"No, thank you." She said smoothly, sinking into the chair with a subdued grace that probably revealed more than she realized. This was a woman used to using her looks – glamoured as they were – to get her way, but he sensed that she wasn't the consumate seductress that Adrastia was.

Harry sat down in a chair across from her and casually steepled his hands over his stomach. "Are you going to tell me why you came here now that we're alone?"

"The Lord of Light sent me visions, visions of a great raven covering all the lands beyond the Wall in the shadow of his wings." She began portentously, her deep voice and eastern accent rather well suited for the theatrics. "I believe that you are that raven, my lord."

"No doubt." Harry smiled wryly, making no comment about the form of address. "But that doesn't tell me why you're here."

Privately, he was troubled. Mother Rhoyne had said that the gods of this world could only perceive the actions of their own worshipers with any clarity, yet the red priestess was saying that R'hllor could see him.

That was...disturbing. How was that fiery cunt seeing him? Harry had very deliberately avoided what was the most widely worshiped and likely most powerful god in this world, not wanting to tangle with it until he had a firmer understanding of the natures, powers and limitations of its kind.

His caution was compounded by R'hllor's portfolios; Fire, shadows, light, the sun. There was no telling how the runes he'd carved into his skin so long ago would interact with the creature. There was a far too good chance that his youthful recklessness was going to bite him in the arse. Again.

"Do you know the prophecy of Azor Ahai?" Melisandre asked, unaware of his inner turmoil.

"I'm aware of it, yes." It had been among the writings he'd bought in Braavos.

Standard hero package #4: humanity was in peril, darkness swallows all the land, hope is fading, but a legendary hero shall be reborn to lead mankind to triumph against forces of evil with his Glowy Sword of Destiny. He probably also eats fire, shits lightning and is hung like a horse.

"Then you have come here to keep watch on the Great Other!" She exclaimed, leaning forward with the light of a true zealot shining in her eyes. And she was already making assumptions about him through the lens of her beliefs. "You know that the ancient enemy waits for a chance to launch another attack on the realms of men and snuff all the warmth from the world. We must find Azor Ahai, the one prophesied to-"

"Let me stop you right there." Harry interjected, cutting off her fanatical rant. "Firstly, I didn't come here to keep watch on anything. I came here because short of the bowels of the Green Hell in Sothoryos, this is the least civilized place I could find in the world and the climate is more to my liking."

Not entirely true. He could have built his tower somewhere completely removed from the reach of humans, such as deep within some mountain range, but Adrastia would have been intolerable without any people around to play games with. The current situation with him steadily becoming some kind of god-king to the free folk? Still not as troublesome as a witch five hundred years old moping and sighing day in and day out.

"But-" Melisandre's enthusiasm vanished so suddenly that she sputtered. That was always a problem with zealots; no mental dexterity.

"Secondly," He cut her off again. "as someone who has made an extensive study of prophecy, I would advise you to stop thinking about it."

"How can you say that!?" She demanded. "If Azor Ahai isn't found, the Great Other will turn the entire world into a frozen boneyard!"

"I can say that because prophecies come in two varieties." He answered casually. "Those being true and false. If a prophecy is false, then obsessing over it is a dangerous waste of time. If a prophecy is true then it will happen one way or another no matter what, and obsessing over it is a dangerous waste of time."

Melisandre blinked and opened her mouth, but found she had nothing to say. Her surface thoughts lost their mirror-smooth focus as the disruptively logical notion he'd just presented failed to mesh with her beliefs, but it only took her a few seconds to rationalize it away.

"That may be so," She allowed. "But it would be best to find Azor Ahai as soon as possible, rather than allowing the Great Other and his servants to advance and grow in strength unopposed. The old legends say that mankind was nearly destroyed before he arose last time. I would have Azor Ahai ready to face his destiny with Lightbringer in hand before the situation grows that dire."

"Strength is bred in adversity." Harry countered. "By seeking to smooth the path, you may inadvertently weaken your vaunted champion."

A disconcerted expression flitted briefly across Melisandre's face as her utmost belief in her purpose was challenged again in a way she couldn't dismiss out of hand, but it wasn't nearly enough to dissuade her. "Once he is found he could be guided and prepared."

"And you're sure that's a good idea?" He asked pointedly. "If the prophecy is true, then Azor Ahai will be chosen for the strength of his own heart and soul, not what others may try to make of him. You might lead him astray without ever realizing it."

Another flash of doubt passed across her eyes, and Melisandre resorted to her ultimate trump card to quiet it. "R'hllor will guide me."

"I wouldn't put so much stock in that old flamebrain if I were you. From what I hear he's hardly any better than this 'Great Other'."

The red priestess' face twisted with fury and she surge to her feet. "You dare-"

Harry made a sharp downward gesture with his hand and she was pushed forcefully back into her seat, wide-eyed at the casual show of power.

"Careful now." He drawled with a distinct note of warning. "I've gotten pretty mellow in my old age, but don't forget that you're a guest here." He let the silence hang for a tense moment before shrugging and continuing in a more conversational tone. "Besides, you might think your precious Lord of Light is the best thing ever, but I wonder what the people burned alive in his name would say. I hear that he's especially fond of children."

Melisandre looked away from his knowing stare, choosing not to answer. He knew that she wanted to argue the virtues of her chosen god, but she had no rebuttal to this particular point. Or more likely, she didn't feel confident enough to give voice to her outrage after being slapped down like that.

Just like any zealot, her religion represented a large chunk of her core personality and what he'd just said undoubtedly felt like a personal attack. Weaning her off it would be more work than rehabilitating a hardcore heroin addict...if he was inclined to bother that was, which he wasn't. She was wearing the Armor of Faith, +10 versus facts, making the Club of Truth an ineffective weapon against her.

Sure enough, she opened her mouth again after a solid ten seconds of tense silence. "I can show you R'hllor's glory, if you would give me leave to burn the weirwoods."

"No." Harry denied blandly. "Aside from how incredibly stupid it is to start forest fires, Luna likes them and I'm not going to upset my wife just so that your god can flex his muscles at me."

"They are false gods, demons!" She insisted heatedly.

"And what is the difference between a god and a demon? Trees that care only for earth and rain or a fire spirit with a voracious appetite for human sacrifice, which one sounds more demonic?"

Melisandre was starting to look quite angry now and her reply came through a thin veil of forced calm. "The Lord of Light protects us from the darkness, he gives us light and fire and chases away the night."

Harry grinned darkly in amusement. "Does he really? In my personal experience, the Light is no more concerned with the troubles of humanity than the Dark."

"You have been led astray by these false gods and their trees." She stated as if it was incontrovertible fact.

"That's so much easier for you to accept than the notion that you might be wrong, isn't it." He scoffed derisively and shook his head before standing up. "The familiar path is easy to walk, but you rarely learn anything new from it. Try to keep that in mind during your stay here."

XXXXX

8th day of the 12th moon, 236 AC. Dol Guldur.

"Melisandre came to me with a broken nose today." Luna said idly while playing with the bubbles from the bath. "Does anyone know what happened to her?"

"I could hazard a guess." Harry grinned, looking at the defiant lift of Hala's chin.

"She'd had it comin'." The warg asserted. "Stupid cunt started blabbering about that flamin' god of hers again."

"And you thought breaking her nose was an appropriate response?" Harry grinned wider. "Well done."

"Why haven't you kicked her out yet?" Sigrid wanted to know.

It was just the four of them in the bath this time, it being Ava and Oak's turn to look after the children.

"Because I plan to take her to Asshai with us and leaving her there." He replied.

As useful as she was as an information source, having Melisandre around was a hassle because she couldn't be trusted to behave herself. Harry had long considered the devoutly religious – and in truth anyone that was wedded too tightly to their beliefs, whatever those beliefs may be – to be functionally insane; inflexible in their thinking, prone to making irrational decisions, resorting to twisted, circuitous reasoning to justify their ideological position and willing to go to dangerously extreme lengths to resolve the inevitable cognitive dissonance. The red priestess was a prime example of such a person and he sure as hell wasn't going to let her stay within a thousand miles of his children while he and Luna were away. If he hadn't already given her guest protections he'd have snapped her neck and been done with it.

"I want to go, too." Hala said quickly.

"No." Harry refused just as quickly. "It's too dangerous."

"I can take care of meself!" She snapped back.

"Not against what we might face there." He said firmly. "You are not coming with us and that's final."

Hala fumed, but didn't voice any more objections. She knew that he wouldn't change his mind.

"Harry can take you on a trip to some other place after we come back." Luna suggested before the situation could escalate.

"Other place?" Sigrid asked curiously.

"Sure, I can help you decide if you'd like."

Harry just huffed to himself in amusement. Leave it to Luna to arrange for him to take his other women on dates, she was considerate like that.

"That sounds nice." The Thenn woman smiled. She was far more danger-averse than Hala, but all the books and stories had opened her eyes to the world outside of her frozen homeland.

"He'll take each of you, and we can all go on a family outing after that."

Harry slouched further in the water and let the women continue planning out romantic field trips that he was apparently taking them on. Some battles were not worth fighting.

XXXXX

Melisandre's stay as a guest in Dol Guldur could best be described as frustrating.

By the time she had reached the tower, she'd been reasonably certain that the Raven Lord was no ally to the Great Other, merely from the information she'd gleaned from the black brothers she had engaged in covnersation. Opinion of him was sharply divided, but all the accounts described a man that did not seem the type to serve the enemy. Bryden Rivers, especially, seemed convinced that he only wished to be left to his own devices and the albino was one of the most perceptive men she'd ever encountered.

The only problem she saw was his lack of faith in R'hllor, but she resolved herself to convert him to the true faith.

Things did not go as planned.

Harry listened to her preaching, which had initially filled her with hope, but it soon became clear that he would not be embracing R'hllor. He often poked holes into her sermons, asked difficult questions or requested clarification she found herself unable to provide. She could see in his eyes that her words weren't reaching his heart. They didn't light up with the fires of faith, but remained calculatingly cold, as if the mind behind them was dismantling everything she said and examining the pieces. In time, she learned that this was exactly what he was doing.

Attempting to impress him was useless. He was far more learned in the magical arts than she was.

One of her more common strategies when converting recalcitrant people was to first convert those close to them and allow the pressure to soften them up. With this in mind She had gone after his women.

Luna, as his wife, had been her first choice. Unfortunately, the sometimes dreamy-eyed woman only listened for a few minutes before sadly shaking her head, saying something about wrackspurts and wandering off. Melisandre had encountered all sorts of reactions to her attempts to spread R'hllor's teachings, but that was the most casually insulting response she'd ever received.

Adrastia was next, after she saw how close they apparently were. The Summer Islands woman had listened, but her eyes reflected only the same ruthless calculation as Harry's. However, whereas his felt like it wasn't really aimed at her but at what she was saying, Adrastia's were those of a dangerous schemer that was thinking of the best way to profit from your death or misfortune. There would be no conversion there either.

As for the mothers of Harry's children...well, her nose still ached to remember Hala's reaction. And she was, of course, not allowed to approach the children. In fact, she was not allowed to speak of R'hllor to anyone else.

Seduction failed before she could even attempt it, this was made clear during one of their talks. She had been extolling the virtues of R'hllor to him and he once again argued against it with one of his cutting comments...

"Don't you red priests and priestesses consider yourselves slaves to R'hllor?" Harry asked with mocking amusement. "Do you mention that little detail to the people you try to convert, or do you leave it out because you know it would be a deal-breaker?"

"We are all slaves to the gods." Melisandre said, avoiding the question. She didn't want to admit that he was right, that she did omit that when trying to convert people.

"There used to be a religion with a similar philosophy where I came from, we were bitter enemies." He said, smirking darkly.

Melisandre understood from the words he used that the religion he spoke of was gone. It only served to confirm that it was a false faith, or else it would not have fallen. R'hllor was the only true god. Still, she didn't like the none-too-subtle implication of Harry's words.

"So, where are your slave tattooes then?" He continued speaking. "Hiding under that glamour of yours? Or does that choker it's anchored to double as a slave collar?"

Melisandre was startled, but tried not to show it. He had perceived her glamour? So much for her plans to seduce him.

"This is a mark or R'hllor's favor." She said, fingering the ruby choker.

"Is it really, or is it a leash?"

"Doing R'hllor's bidding is a great honor, I do not need to be controlled to serve him!" Melisandre replied stiffly, angered by his prodding. He would always do this, poke and prod and try to make cracks in her faith. But she would not be swayed.

"I know."

She didn't understand why his words were so dismissive. Or why they sounded like an insult.

"If you would but open your heart to the Lord of Light, you would understand."

"I prefer to understand things with my mind."

And that was really the crux of the matter. It was the reason she had tried to convert his women, because Harry did not open his heart to the gods, any gods. Not even these heathen Old Gods, despite appearances.

Melisandre had never met such a frustrating man. How did he even stand to live, believing in nothing? Even people who believed in false gods at least believed in something.

"The divine is not meant to be understood by mortals." She tried again.

"Says who?" He grinned.

Melisandre had no answer. Nobody had said it, it was just...common sense.

"I've unraveled many mysteries by not accepting that something was beyond my understanding. I've learned far more about magic by challenging what people said was impossible than I ever did by blindly listening to the prattling of those that were supposed to be teaching me. You say that gods are not meant to be understood by mortals? I say bullshit."

"I cannot deny that you are a powerful sorcerer, much stronger than me." Melisandre admitted. "I would be interested in learning these secrets you mentioned, if you would share them."

"You want me to teach you?" He asked back with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes." Godless blasphemer he may be, but he was mighty in magic. And she may yet be able to sway him to R'hllor as his student.

Harry was silent for a long moment, before summoning a glass and a pitcher of water.

"This is you." He said, pointing at the glass as he poured water into it until it was nearly overflowing. "Where am I supposed to put new knowledge? I can't teach someone that thinks she already knows everything."

"I do not think I know everything!" Melisandre protested. "Only R'hllor knows everything."

But Harry only sighed exasperatedly and stood up. "One day, Melisandre, you may understand what I tried to tell you here and it will be the worst day of your life. You're more likely to die without ever figuring it out, though. Most do."

That was the end of that conversation, and the closing of her chances to learn magic from Harry. He would not explain what he meant, only saying that she wasn't ready to listen.

The continued failures took their toll on Melisandre's mind. It was usually she who was the mysterious one, but to Harry she was as transparent as air. Nobody would listen to her, nobody wanted to hear about R'hllor and nobody took her concerns about Azor Ahai seriously.

The prophecy had always been about more than just defeating the ancient enemy to her, Melisandre had also envisioned that R'hllor's champion would be a shining beacon, spreading the true faith across the world and burning away the lies of all the false gods until everyone was united in worship of the Lord of Light. Much of her hopes and even reasons to live hinged on that vision and such utter dismissal of it felt like a rejection of her entire world view.

There was a part of her that began to see Harry as a potential enemy because of this. Her conflation of belief in R'hllor with opposition to the Great Other and vice versa made it very difficult for her to comprehend the idea that a non-believer could be anything other than an enemy, especially with Harry's disinterest in the great conflict between Light and Dark.

When she was told, not asked or requested, that she would be travelling back to Asshai with Harry and Luna, it felt as if all the effort taken to come here had been for nothing.

XXXXX

7th day of the 1st moon, 237 AC. Dol Guldur.

It was the eve before Harry, Luna and Melisandre were to set off for Asshai and Harry was spending the night with Oak.

Despite Luna's best efforts, none of the four local women were even vaguely bi-curious and preferred not to share their time with Harry. Though disappointed, Luna didn't pout for long and simply organized a rotating schedule so that they each got an equal amount of time with him while the others looked after the children. She even put herself on the schedule rather than make a claim on his time whenever she felt like it, which both surprised and pleased them. None of the four would have felt that they had the right to object if she had done so, seeing as she was Harry's first.

Tonight was Oak's turn and she was currently curled up with him in a spooning position after their most recent bout of lovemaking.

She sighed contently in the safety of his embrace and the heat of his seed pooling inside her, running her fingers along the scarred flesh of the arm he had wrapped around her stomach.

"Maybe a boy this time?" She muttered sleepily.

Harry sighed in slight exasperation. The longing for more children hadn't faded in any of the four women and their hints were growing less subtle by the day.

"Harry?" Oak questioned, catching his sigh and suddenly substantially more awake.

"Hmm?" He prompted wordlessly.

"It's been more than half a year since Narya was born." She said, biting her lip. "And her birth wasn't as hard as Nenya's, you and Luna made sure of that. I think I'm ready for another child."

"There's no need for that." Harry tried. "Eight children is more than enough for me."

"But I want to give you a son." Oak almost pleaded, spinning around in his embrace until she was face to face with him. "All the others gave you sons."

"There's nothing wrong with daughters." He admonished. "And it's not a competition either."

Oak's cheeks pinked in embarrassment, but she wasn't willing to give up just yet. "But don't you want more children? All four of us are still young and fertile, yet our wombs lay empty."

"Better to raise a few children well than to raise many poorly." Harry argued.

"We've been doing fine so far!" Oak said, voice rising slightly in her earnestness. "Looking after eight children isn't hard with five of us to do it, and Luna's magic makes it even easier. We can handle a few more."

"Easy to say that now when they're toddlers, just wait until they're teenagers." He muttered, vividly recalling the trouble that his first brood got up to.

Then again, maybe that comparison was a bit unfair. This time, there would be no metamorph triplets, veela or kooky little brats with Luna's genes.

On the other hand, there would be demi-giants, skinchangers and greenseers...

"Please, just one more." Oak pleaded, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him insistently. "You're going into danger on the other side of the world. I want to bring another piece of you into this world if you die there."

Just one more, she says. Harry thought with an internal snort, easily dismissing the notion of dying. In this case, one equaled four, because the other three would sulk and resent their 'sister' if they didn't get another kid of their own. Ah, fuck it. Wouldn't be the first time I had to raise twelve kids at a time.

"Fine, just one more." He said, lips twitching in amusement at Oak's squeal of glee. "But no complaining or demanding do-overs if it's another girl."

"I promise." She swore and eagerly started reaching for his member, as if it was going to run away or something.

XXXXX

9th day of the 1st moon, 237 AC. Asshai-by-the-Shadow.

"It's so gloomy." Luna noted with a small frown, looking in all directions as if searching for a splash of color.

There was none to be found. Asshai was the very antithesis of cheerful. The size of it could almost rival a good-sized city on 21st century Earth, but the extremely low population made it seem like a ghost town, further adding to the gloomy feeling. The foul, black waters of the Ash river didn't help either. You hardly needed the ability to sense magic to feel the corruption emanating from it.

"They are not called the Shadow Lands without reason." Melisandre gave a slight shrug.

"It's more than just that." Harry said with a much deeper frown than Luna. "There's a sense of malice hanging in the air, and this stone..."

He approached the nearest building and ran his hand over the wall.

"...it's not natural." He finished with a frown of disgust, rubbing his fingers together in an attempt to get rid of the greasy feeling. The stone was only slightly damp from the perpetual thin mist hanging around the dark city, but the greasy, slimy sensation it left on his hand had very little to do with physical reality. The stain was spiritual.

"No one knows from whence the black stone came." Melisandre replied. "I have heard of it in other lands as well. There is said to be an abandoned city called Yeen made of it somewhere in the jungles of Sothoryos, and that the Bloodstone Emperor of the Golden Empire of the Dawn began to worship such a stone after it fell from the sky in the wake of his usurpation of the throne and the beginning of the Long Night. The Seastone Chair of the Iron Islands and the base of the Hightower in the Reach are also said to be carved from it."

"Hmm, interesting." Harry muttered to himself. There had been no mention of any of that in the books he'd read. Melisandre's long years in this world were showing. It was almost enough to make him reconsider the idea of leaving her here when he and Luna returned home. Almost.

"What are you doing?" Said woman asked in slight alarm when he pulled his bladestaff out of hammerspace.

"Taking a sample." He replied and sliced off a corner of the building. The spellforged blade parted the stone easily enough and he quickly put it into a specially prepared lockbox, which then went into a satchel at his waist.

He certainly wasn't going to put some unknown substance with unknown properties into his hammerspace, which was basically a soul pocket. Very bad idea, that.

"I don't want to stay in a house made of that stone." Luna spoke up, softly but firmly.

Melisandre had told them that the common practice was to simply take over one of the homes that wasn't being used, seeing as the vast majority of the city was always empty.

"There is little choice, almost all of the buildings in Asshai are made of it." The red priestess said.

"We brought a tent." Harry waved off.

XXXXX

23rd day of the 1st moon, 237 AC. Asshai-by-the-Shadow.

The magical lore held in Asshai was both extensive and haphazard, a consequence pf being more of a refuge for practioners of arts that most find offputting than a city in the traditional meaning of the word. It was like looking at Earth's past and seeing the beginnings of a magical enclave, except that it was kept safe by its creepy location rather than spells.

Darker, though. Whether it was happenstance or the effect of the environment, Asshai teemed with constrained malice. The Shadow Men, natives of the Shadow Lands that sometimes immigrated to Asshai, were the ones that actually kept it running and conducted the trade necessary to bring in food and water that the blighted land couldn't produce. They also engaged in piracy according to Melisandre, which just figured. There was only so much that trade could do for a city so foul that every single child was stillborn.

Harry spent two weeks buying or copying books through various means with Melisandre's help. Even a place like this had certain unspoken rules and her input was valuable even if he could guess the gist of it. A lot of gold and other goods, even some knowledge was dropped in exchange for interesting tidbits of lore, the primary difficulty being the fact that it was scattered among many owners.

Quite a few of these were older than they should be.

Harry had seen many half-baked methods of life extension in his time. After the old order and the Ministries of Magic fell, their many programs designed to make docile sheep out of wizards and witches were also undone. That resulted in a sharp rise in the number of people thinking that they could cheat death, helped along by his own example. Most of these yielded quite horrible results, whatever concoctions or rituals used far inferior to the Elixir of Life. One could not understand the cycle of life and death if one feared it. And a wizard couldn't control what he didn't understand.

Asshai was like a museum to humanity's obsession with immortality. There were just so many withered husks here that should have died ages ago and more than a few were quite unhinged, a state of mind that Harry wasn't convinced was merely a consequence of their shriveled bodies.

When he thought that he had enough books and scrolls he decided that he wanted to investigate the possible source of Asshai's ominous atmosphere, Melisandre was in disbelief.

"No one goes to Stygai." She said with feeling. "Shadows dwell there that even shadowbinders fear. It is folly."

"Maybe, but I just have to know what's up there." Harry grinned.

"I will not accompany you, not to Stygai."

"Then I guess this is goodbye." He replied with an uncaring shrug. "I can't say that it was fun knowing you, but it's been an experience."

Melisandre hesitated for a moment before speaking. "I will find Azor Ahai, and if you somehow survive this madness you insist on, I will bring him to you. By Lightbringer's flames, you will at last see the truth."

"You really are lucky that you didn't meet me when I was younger." Harry mused, feeling a tinge of familiar irritation at her religion-driven stubbornness. But it was an old irritation, worn down and tired by time and too much experience. He had killed so many people like her that he just couldn't muster up the old anger anymore. Humanity never seemed to run out of narrow-minded morons, no matter how many you killed. "Do as you will, Melisandre, but let me share a bit of wisdom from my homeland with you; 'the road to Hell is paved with good intentions'. Trust me on this, I know."

Because she genuinely did have good intentions – or at least she thought she did – she was just terribly, terribly misguided. Everyone saw the world through the lens of their beliefs. The more fervent the belief, the thicker the lens and the more distorted the sight. Even Harry, who had been attempting since before he hit his teens to see things clearly, was not exempt from this and he knew it.

Melisandre didn't know it. She was sporting some very thick lenses indeed and was quite attached to them. She carried a torch to banish the darkness without noticing the shadows she was casting behind her. It was an all too familiar mindset.

"Bye-bye, and good luck with your search!" Luna said brightly, giving the confused red priestess a wave as they walked away, following the Ash river northwwards, towards the corpse city of Stygai.

XXXXX

Asshai scored pretty high on the creepy scale. Lifeless countryside, mostly empty city, buildings made of unnatural black stone, a befouled river, ominous atmosphere...but Stygai? Stygai took all of that up to eleven and added more on top of it.

It was literally as silent as the grave, because that's what the long ruined city was, a graveyard. There were ancient bones scattered here and there, not the slightest sound could be heard except the occasional moan of the wind, the Ash glowed with a pale green phosphorescence that lit up the lowest levels of the city with a sickly glow, brighter, and yet somehow darker, than what it was like in Asshai at night. That, and a hundred other things, secured Stygai the top spot on the list of creepiest places they'd ever been.

But the darkness was the worst of it by far. Stygai was situated in the Vale of Shadows, which was little more than a narrow cleft in the Mountains of the Morn through which the Ash river passed on its way to the Jade Sea. The cliffs were so high and steep that less than the only time any sunlight made it inside was at noon, and even then the darkness didn't really let up.

It was no normal darkness. It was too thick and didn't fade in the presence of light, but retreated from it like a beast threatened with fire. It crawled over the buildings like jungle growth and weighed down the air, so much so that they instinctively knew that Apparition and unaided flight were out of the question.

Luna held tightly to her hefty ironwood and dragon heartstring staff, a strong golden glow emanating from the headpiece. Those weren't wasn't her preferred materials, but it would do the rrick. There was also a Valyrian steel short sword sheathed at her waist at Harry's insistence, despite her complete lack of experience in using it.

Harry carried his bladestaff in both hands and had a powerfully burning cast iron torch levitating after him, not wishing to rely completely on magical light sources in a place that felt this smothering. He also had a Valyrian steel sword at his waist as a backup weapon just in case.

Both of them scanned the darkness in front of them with the gleaming, slit amber eyes of shadowcats as they made their way through the dead city. There was not even the faintest sign of life around them, but their senses were screaming at them that they were surrounded.

"Harry, can you sense any Dark around us?" Luna whispered the question.

"No." He replied grimly.

He had expected to sense it, but it just wasn't there. There was no primeval chill in the air, no sucking hopelessness, no promise of rest if they would just give up and die. Stygai's darkness was not the darkness of the Void, but something he hadn't encountered before.

A sound made them freeze. It was barely audible past their own breathing and light footsteps, but it was unmistakably there, bones scraping across stone.

Luna focused her magical light into a beam and aimed it at the darkness, but instead of fleeing, the darkness swallowed it. For a brief moment it looked as if a multitude of living shadows were swarming at the edges of the illumination. Then the light atop her staff was snuffed out, as if drained dry.

"Oh poo, that's not good." She said plaintively.

"I would go so far as to say that it's bad." Harry agreed, hearing an ever growing number bones rattling and scraping in the impenetrable dark. "Run for it!"

They burst into a controlled run, because it wasn't the first time they'd walked into this kind of mess and sprinting recklessly did nothing but tire you out, almost absently casting a spell that ignited a powerful blaze behind their every footstep.

"This isn't the way out, Harry." Luna noted.

"Like hell am I going to let a bunch of walking bones chase me out." Harry huffed indignantly, considerably more relaxed now that the other shoe had finally dropped.

Luna lobbed a fireball in front of them, both to give them a better idea of what was there and to incinerate a small cluster of skeletons that had been in their path, skeletons that shone with inner darkness. "I think the shadows might be possessing them so that they could withstand the torchlight while they rip us to pieces."

"They also waited for us to walk deeper into the city before springing the ambush." He mused, using his bladestaff to smash or cut through the shadow-animated bones that got in his way. "Rudimentary intelligence, means these aren't just simple undead. Too many individuals to be the product of coalesced malice fused with shadow magic. Also, too strong. Should have dissipated a long time ago. Life force infusion? But on this scale? Had to be cultural, would make sense with the permanent darkness, maybe a religion based on it. Probably even. Might be able to find some answers in a temple."

"Bridge." Luna interjected, interrupting his monologue.

Harry looked towards where she was pointing and did indeed see the structure in question, lit up by the river's unnatural green glow. It was made of the ubiquitous black stone, of course, and looked quite sturdy. More importantly, what little could be seen of the other side had a more affluent look. Wider streets compared to the fairly cramped ones of the outer city they had just pased through. Affluent areas meant temples, libraries and mansions. Places of knowledge.

"Well spotted, dear." He complimented.

"Thanks, honey." Luna beamed.

They stopped in the middle of the bridge and looked behind them, seeing a veritable legion of skeletons moving in the darkness. The line of fire they had left behind them was fading rapidly, which it shouldn't have done.

"This bloody stone..." Harry muttered, conjuring up another wall of flame in front of the bridge and frowning when he saw that it began losing power immediately. "It's eroding our magic. And why are there so many fucking bones lying around anyway? This place is a minimum of five thousand years old at the most conservative estimate, they should have all turned to dust ages ago."

Come to think of it, the city itself was astonishingly well preserved, the ravages of time not at all evident on the dark stone...

"Umm, Harry?" Luna spoke up, looking down into the glowing green river beneath them.

"What?"

"Draugr." She said plainly, pointing at the churning waters.

"What?" Harry repeated and rushed to the side of the bridge.

Liquid shadow was bubbling out of the phosphorescent river in a way that made his eyes sting to look at, a sure sign of something that physical senses were unable to process. The blackness spilled over the sides of the canal, crawling over the stone, and behind it followed a multitude of withered corpses with equally blackened flesh.

"Well, that would explain why the river is so fucked up." He quipped and quickly renewed the fading wall of flame that was holding back the skeletons. "Onwards, my dear."

"It's been a while since you were this cheerful." Luna noted with a happy smile, jogging at his side.

"What can I say, I'm feeling nostalgic." Harry grinned.

"Bolivia and the hungry jungle?"

"Yep, although that was a bit more dangerous than this." And it had been. Despite the legion of walking dead running after them, they weren't feeling particularly threatened. Sure, if they moved out of the torchlight it would probably mean instant death and getting swarmed wouldn't be healthy either, but they weren't a couple of unprepared rookies on their first encounter with a zerg of undead, nor were they even close to being out of aces in the hole. Compared to giant carnivorous plants trying to ambush them at every other step, this was pretty straightforward.

The low visibility was really the most dangerous problem they were facing. Aside from the green glow of the river, their levitating torch provided the only illumination. With Stygai's light-absorbing building materials and the minimal daylight that penetrated the ravine it was situated in, that meant that they often couldn't see more than five or so meters in front of them and that was with the impeccable night vision of shadowcats.

Still, at least the lowered building density also meant a lower undead density. A couple of minutes of running later, the street suddenly opened up into a wide open space of some kind.

Luna immediately fired a powerful, bright fireball into the air, knowing that they needed to see where to go. The flare revealed a vast, multi-tiered plaza that by its very design focused all attention on a single building at its apex.

"If that isn't a temple then I'm not a wizard." Harry snorted and made for the immense structure, Luna right behind him.

They had little trouble outpacing the undead hordes chasing them, but a problem presented itself when they reached the temple entrance.

The doorway was as freakishly huge as the rest of it, and what had once probably been an impressive set of double doors had long since rotted into nothing.

The two of them had long since gotten into the habit of using their Discs as barricades due to their indestructible properties, but this particular doorway was more than five meters wide and twice as tall. Each Disc was only two meters across, so even stacked side by side they wouldn't cover it.

"Stand back, dear." Harry said, pulling a flask of luminous silver liquid out of hammerspace.

"Ooh, you're going to use the Silver Fire?" Luna asked eagerly, quickly setting up a semi-circular wall of fire on the temple staircase to hold back the tide of undead.

Then she pulled a pair of extremely dark sunglasses from her own hammerspace.

"I can't think of a better place to use it than in a city infested by undead." He quipped back and spilled the vial's contents across the threshold.

The silver liquid began to shimmer as both Harry and Luna quickly backed away, deeper into the temple. Harry also put on his own sunglasses.

There was a moment of stillness before the shimmering reached a critical point and then suddenly erupted into an intense silver blaze that banished every shadow all the way to the bottom of the plaza. Those floating shade monsters that had thus far been lingering at the edges of their torchlight were instantly destroyed, while the various skeletons and draugr let out tortured groans and fled for any darkened corner they could find.

"Man, I love that stuff." Harry said with a wide grin as he stared at the luminous blaze through his sunglasses. The alchemical weapon was quite possibly the most potent concoction he'd ever created. A perfectly self-contained magical flame that gave off a searingly bright light, but no heat and didn't burn anything it didn't touch. What it did touch...

"Oh my, the stone isn't melting." Luna commented.

"What..." Harry stated flatly, seeing that his wife was correct. The black stone that was being licked by the luminous flames didn't even look warm. "What the actual hell is up with that rock?"

Silver Fire melted tungsten faster than a blast furnace melted cheese. It treated literally everything, including magic, like fuel and was 100% energy efficient. If not for the fact that it required the original liquid base in order to keep burning, which only lasted for exactly six hours after being exposed to air, it would eventually vaporize the entire planet. It could destroy even spellforged metal for fuck's sake, albeit not easily.

But it apparently couldn't do jack to some weird slimy rock.

"I think that my pride as an alchemist is being disrespected..."

"At least it doesn't seem to be snuffing it out like it did the regular fire." Luna offered, rubbing his arm in consolation.

"If it did that, I'd have to call bullshit." Harry muttered. "Come on, let's check this place out."

XXXXX

"Oh my..." Harry breathed out in an impressed tone, as the light of the flare spell faded.

The temple was humongous, every hall and room positively palatial, but it was the main hall that truly gave a sense of scale to it.

They had only just entered it and had for a moment wondered if they had stepped back outside. But no, it was simply that massive. At a rough estimate, you could squeeze four football fields into it. Whoever had designed the place either had no restraint whatsoever or was angling for it to be so huge that all of Stygai's population could fit into it.

"Is that a throne at the end?" Luna asked, squinting into the impenetrable darkness ahead.

Harry cast another flare, this time directly ahead. The end of the hall was so far that it was difficult to make out details, but they could definitely see a great staircase and an oversized chair at the top.

"I think it is." He said in a nonplussed tone. "Maybe this isn't a temple after all."

That didn't feel right though. Everything about the building's architecture screamed out religious overtones.

"Those look like altars, though." Luna noted, pointing to the side, where stone slab after stone slab was arranged in neat little alcoves.

"A theocracy?" Harry mused, moving towards the closest one. "Where the high priest is also the ruler?"

Luna just hummed noncommittally, keeping a wary eye out for any unpleasant surprises. There was no guarantee that the undead were only outside after all and they could still sense the malicious shades lurking at the edges of the torchlight.

The altar was made of yet more of the greasy black stone, smooth and featureless. The only other thing of note in the alcove was a small funnel sticking out of the wall over a non-descript dais, a ruby-studded bronze chalice that had long since gone green with corrosion sitting on it.

"Do you think this is where all those shades were made?" Luna wondered, no doubt connecting the vast number of altars here with the number of shades they had seen.

Harry frowned in thought. "Could be, but that kind of magic should have left an imprint. None of this stone is speaking to me."

"Maybe we just don't know the language?"

"Now there's a thought." He replied, frown deepening as he picked up the chalice. "This, however, reeks of blood and death. A lot of it."

"Do you think they were drinking it?"

"Could be." Done properly, blood ingestion could be used to briefly empower the drinker or act as a precursor for certain spells and rituals. "Although I don't think I'd want to drink anything that touched this greasy stone...Didn't we see a chalice like this down in Asshai? With the creaky old shadowbinder that kept dodging my questions?"

"Yes, and Melisandre didn't look comfortable either."

"No matter, I think I can start guessing." Harry snorted. "Even in this near-perfect envinronment, the shades outside couldn't have survived all this time if they were merely shaped of empty shadow. All the shadowbinders we've met so far have been women, so I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that they hijack their own wombs to give a semblance of true life to these creatures. A powerful, yet strangely specific, use of shadow magic. It isn't hard to imagine that that bit of lore might have survived whatever doomed Stygai if it was in common use, which would mean..."

"That this temple was a breeding ground." Luna said with downturned lips, staring into the darkness that she knew concealed the hundreds of alcoves lining the walls.

"I wouldn't be surprised, this world has some messed up religions." He shook his head, then paused and snorted again. "Not that Earth has room to be throwing stones."

They lapsed into silence and made their way towards the throne at the end of the hall. A few of the other aloves were looked into, but they were identical to the first.

As the throne came into view, the sheer excessiveness of it became clear. The stairway was so high that the dais was actually its own floor, connected to a balcony of sorts that wrapped around the entire room and looked to be reserved exclusively for the king/high priest, and the throne looked big enough to seat a giant and still have room left over.

"Definitely no sense of restraint." Harry muttered, recalling his earlier thoughts on the size of the hall.

Interestingly enough, there was also another altar on a small platform just before the throne, this one carved with numerous channels that led towards a series of holes in the floor. An obsidian knife laid atop the altar.

"And I guess this is where the blood came from." Harry continued talking to himself, inspecting the holes in the ground. "Someone must have had a hell of a time carving these channels to keep the distribution even, and there's no way that a single sacrifice could provide enough for everyone."

"I think I found what they did with the bodies." Luna's said, peeking around the throne.

Harry went to look and found a big, circular hole just behind the throne. The phosphorescent green glow of the Ash river could be seen deep down below.

"Now that's just lazy, not to mention stupid." He said with a frown. "Explains where all the draugr came from, though."

A spot of darkness blotted out the sickly glow, and angry gnashing sounds echoed up the well.

"They're climbing up." Luna observed calmly.

"Of course they are." Harry agreed. It would break the cliché if they couldn't. "I don't suppose we're going to come across any reading material that survived millennia of neglect in this dark, dank hellhole, so we might as well go home." They had spent a good three hours exploring the temple before reaching the main hall and found only bare stone rooms, the occasional gemstone or bit of corroded metal.

"We can always come back another day if you want to take another look." Luna offered. "Now that we know what to expect we can bring more specialized supplies."

Harry nodded with an acknowledging rumble and started making his way down the ridiculous stairs and back towards the temple entrance.

They kept up a regular walking pace, because even if the draugr could climb they couldn't do it fast, and reached the entrance in about ten minutes now that they knew the way.

They put their sunglasses back on when they saw the blaze of the Silver Fire shining through the doorways.

Harry was intending to make a quip about the greasy black stone still disrespecting his skills as an alchemist, but that fell to the wayside as they saw what was waiting for them in the plaza.

"A shadow dragon?" He stated/asked, bemused. "Is this supposed to be a boss encounter or something?"

There was a huge draconic skeleton out there with bands of living shadow twining about its bones, creating a mockery of flesh.

"The dragon's innate magic resistance must be protecting it from the Silver Fire's light." Luna theorized.

"Well then, let's go fight the boss." He said, still a bit bemused by this new occurence.

The Discs came out of hammerspace and were used to carefully levitate over the line of Silver Fire, an easy enough thing to do given that the doorway was ten meters high and the luminous flames less than half that.

The shadow dragon jumped and flapped its shadowy wings as soon as they were out in the open, letting out a sepulchral roar as it went for them.

"It can fly, too." Harry was even more bemused. Well, he supposed that was fair enough. It wasn't like living dragons should be able to fly either, given their weight to wingspan ratio, so there was no reason to point out that shadows couldn't hold air.

Then he took another flask of Silver Fire from his hammerspace and tossed it at the giant target. The flask broke apart and spilled its contents over the ancient bones, quickly igniting into a veritable bonfire of silver flames as the shadow dragon was consumed.

"What, did you think I only had one of those on me?" He mocked the thoroughly destroyed undead abomination.

"Don't be mean, Harry." Luna admonished. "It tried its best."

XXXXXX

Meanwhile, in Asshai...

Melisandre was praying for guidance at the local temple of R'hllor. Harry had refused to enter it and also refused to explain why. She was even more confused about him now than when she received her first vision regarding him. At times it seemed like he would be an ally, but then he said and did things that should mark him as an enemy. It was infuriating.

A sudden commotion drew her attention, the other priests, priestesses and worshipers rushing past her room in a great hurry.

She quickly got up and stepped out into the hall, snatching the hand of a passing worshiper.

"What is happening?" Melisandre demanded.

The woman, more of a girl really, stared out of her laquered red mask with wide eyes.

"Stygai! It...a great light shines from the mountains!" She babbled, tearing her arm out of Melisandre's grip and resuming her run.

Melisandre blinked and then hurried after her.

When she made it outside she nearly collapsed to her knees in disbelief, something which many other denizens of Asshai had already done.

A blazing pillar of silver light was shining out of the Mountains of the Morn, exactly where she knew Stygai to be. It pierced the darkness of the night and stabbed into the clouds like a divine spear.

Melisandre knew instantly that this had to be Harry's doing, somehow, and it only served to confuse her further. Surely he could not have conjured such brilliance without the blessing of the Lord of Light?

"R'hllor, guide me. What am I to do?" She muttered to herself and returned to her room in the temple. She would pray harder.